Evans, Jago, and others.  A free hand!  Give him a free hand!  Bravo —­bravo!

Roberts.  ’T is not for this little moment of time we’re fighting [the murmuring dies], not for ourselves, our own little bodies, and their wants, ’t is for all those that come after throughout all time. [With intense sadness.] Oh! men—­for the love o’ them, don’t roll up another stone upon their heads, don’t help to blacken the sky, an’ let the bitter sea in over them.  They’re welcome to the worst that can happen to me, to the worst that can happen to us all, are n’t they—­are n’t they?  If we can shake [passionately] that white-faced monster with the bloody lips, that has sucked the life out of ourselves, our wives, and children, since the world began. [Dropping the note of passion but with the utmost weight and intensity.] If we have not the hearts of men to stand against it breast to breast, and eye to eye, and force it backward till it cry for mercy, it will go on sucking life; and we shall stay forever what we are [in almost a whisper], less than the very dogs.

     [An utter stillness, and Roberts stands rocking his body
     slightly, with his eyes burning the faces of the crowd.]

Evans and Jago. [Suddenly.] Roberts! [The shout is taken up.]

     [There is a slight movement in the crowd, and Madge passing
     below the towing-path, stops by the platform, looking up at
     Roberts.  A sudden doubting silence.]

Roberts.  “Nature,” says that old man, “give in to Nature.”  I tell you, strike your blow in Nature’s face—­an’ let it do its worst!

     [He catches sight of Madge, his brows contract, he looks away.]

Madge. [In a low voice-close to the platform.] Your wife’s dying!

     [Roberts glares at her as if torn from some pinnacle of
     exaltation.]

Roberts. [Trying to stammer on.] I say to you—­answer them—­answer them——­

     [He is drowned by the murmur in the crowd.]

Thomas. [Stepping forward.] Ton’t you hear her, then?

Roberts.  What is it? [A dead silence.]

Thomas.  Your wife, man!

[Roberts hesitates, then with a gesture, he leaps down, and goes away below the towing-path, the men making way for him.  The standing bargeman opens and prepares to light a lantern.  Daylight is fast failing.]

Madge.  He need n’t have hurried!  Annie Roberts is dead. [Then in the silence, passionately.] You pack of blinded hounds!  How many more women are you going to let to die?

     [The crowd shrinks back from her, and breaks up in groups, with
     a confused, uneasy movement.  Madge goes quickly away below the
     towing-path.  There is a hush as they look after her.]